


In the Sunlight

by JudeAraya



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1930s, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, First Kisses, First Time, Hand Jobs, I'll tag as I go, M/M, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Talk about feelings, Virgin Steve, Virgin Steve Rogers, and sexy shit, and some internalized self doubt surrounding it, but feelings, first things, period typical homophobic language perhaps, poor pre-serum steve is unsure about himself, who even knows I am writing this on the fly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-11 08:44:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11144937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudeAraya/pseuds/JudeAraya
Summary: “You were so beautiful, in the sunlight Steve,” Bucky whispers. “I had to.”~*~Or, Bucky acts on an impulse; Steve can't ever seem to stop being impulsive. Unexpected *Things* Happen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChibiSquirt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiSquirt/gifts).



> I blame literally everyone in the Stucky Big Bang Slack , mostly the enablers on the writing sprint channel. Chibisquirt, I'm looking at you. 
> 
> This is the first Stucky thing I've ever posted...and am writing and posting as I go? IDK Steve and Bucky are being impulsive, why can't I? 
> 
> NO beta, no worries, lotsa typos!

“Stevie, you ever wonder what it’s like?”

Steve doesn’t look up from his sketch. “I wonder lots of things Buck. You gotta be more specific.”

“Making it.”

Steve looks up then. He’s pretty sure he’s misunderstanding or misheard, but one never does know with Bucky. “Making what?”

Bucky’s smile is lopsided and sly. “With a dame. You know.”

Steve tosses his pencil down and sighs. “You know as well as I do that I do, because I haven't. Otherwise you wouldn’t be asking, would you?”

“No need to be sore about it.”

Steve levels a look at Bucky loaded with as much sarcasm he can humanly manage. He may be small, but he’s learned to make up for it with a lot of scrap. “And isn’t that a problem?”

Bucky laughs in his bright and careless way. He’s in a rare mood. “Come here.” He nods to the other end of their couch. Mystified, Steve does. When he sits, Bucky just examines him for a long moment. Long enough that Steve shifts, too aware of himself in a way he never is with Bucky. Bucky’s gaze lingers on Steve’s mouth, on his eyes.

“Want me to tell you about it?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Do you ever stop?”

“No. _Really_ tell you about it.”

Steve sits on his hands and nibbles his lip. Yeah, of course he does. He’s got no delusions that it’s gonna happen for him – not like it does Bucky. But it seems...disrespectful. Somehow.

“No names,” Bucky says, his gift for reading Steve as comforting as disarming. Steve swallows. It’s awfully warm in their apartment, with only the one window and their door closed. It’s not hot enough to open it for cross-breeze. Come August everyone does, just to get by without melting.

“Yeah. I-“

“You remember kissing Bethany?”

“Uh, yes?” Steve’s not kissed enough girls for him to have the _luxury_ of forgetting names.

“She let you kiss her anywhere else?” Bucky takes a breath and his eyes are such an intense blue Steve wishes for colors to capture them. “Here, maybe?” Steve jolts when Bucky’s fingers touch his neck, just below his ear.

“Bu-“ Steve clears his throat “ _Buck_.”

“Maybe,” he trails his finger down to the hollow of Steve’s throat. Steve's skin is on fire. Bucky’s voice is low, confident and assured; but when his eyes flicker back to Steve’s, there’s a question there. Steve knows Bucky’s moods better than his own. “Like this?”

“No,” Steve whispers. Bucky’s finger stops. “I don’t mean –“ Steve exhales; his chest is painfully tight. He has no idea what the hell he’s doing; no idea what _Bucky_ is doing. But Steve’s never been good at curbing the instinct to throw himself into trouble. “I never kissed her like that.” He puts a finger over Bucky’s and presses it in. His hand is shaking. Bucky inhales, sharp and loud and then he’s moving; tucking his finger behind the button of Steve’s shirt, tugging him forward. He rises a little, up on his knees and kisses him.

 _Kisses_ him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still no beta, and I'm shit at seeing typos. message me if you see anything!

Steve is shocked enough that he falls back a little, against the arm of the sofa. Unbalanced, Bucky falls against him, hand splayed on Steve’s chest. He’s heavy but his lips are wet and not at all shy, not like Bethany’s had been; nor even like his own might be. Bucky doesn’t take his time coaxing a response from Steve: rather, he expects it. His teeth dig into Steve’s bottom lip, a nip of impatience, and his tongue slips into Steve’s mouth behind his gasp. When Bucky pulls way, their lips make a wet noise; it’s vaguely dirty in a way that pulls a tiny, broken noise out of Steve.

“I never kissed her like that either,” Steve says, the confession tight between their lips. Bucky’s only pulled back far enough to see into Steve’s eyes. They’re searching for something. Steve doesn’t have a clue what for – permission or reassurance maybe. Bucky’s eyes are dark and wide. Under Steve’s palms, which he now realizes are cupping Bucky’s shoulders, Bucky's breath is rapid.

It might be one of few times Steve has ever been completely unable to tell what Bucky is thinking. Common sense tells him he should pull back; that they definitely need to push away from each other and stop whatever the hell this game is that Bucky’s started.

But, _oh_ , Steve wants. Wants like he hasn’t before.

“Where else?”

“Where else what?” Bucky licks his lips and pulls back more. Steve grips his shoulders to keep him from getting too far.

_In for a penny and out for a pound._

“Where else you kiss a dame, like that?”

Bucky’s breath catches. His hand drops to Steve’s knee and squeezes. “Steve, you sure you wanna-“

“Bucky,” Steve says. “Shut up and kiss me some more before we both start thinking about this too hard.”

“Oh god, Stevie, you got no idea,” Bucky says before bending in to take another kiss. This time, Steve opens his mouth first; this time, Steve lets himself kiss back. Bucky’s hand on Steve’s chest slides up, cups his neck. Steve’s sure his heart must be beating right out of his chest, that Bucky must be able to read its gallop under his fingers.

The arm of the sofa is digging painfully against Steve’s spine, which is twisted around all wrong like they are. “Buck,” Steve whispers.

“Yeah.” Bucky kisses the corner of his mouth and then his chin. His hand around Steve’s neck is confident even though his voice is shaking.

“I gotta move,” Steve says. Bucky’s mouth is right under his ear then, though, right where his finger had first touched him. Steve gasps into it. “This is hurting my back.”

“You wanna lie down?” Bucky pulls away to ask. Steve takes a moment; takes stock of his body, which is too hot and painfully alive and hair trigger aroused. He wants, but... _lying down_. Lying down implies all kinds of _things_. Things that mean more than kisses maybe. Things he doesn’t have names for.

 _You ever wonder what it’s like_ , Bucky had said.

God, does Bucky want to make it with him? How does that even work?

“Stop thinking so hard Steve,” Bucky says. Somehow, from Steve’s lips down to his throat, in the span of three kisses, Bucky’s found his feet again.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Um, here?” He hates that his voice rises with nerves, that his own bravado seems to be wearing off just as Bucky’s confidence seems to come roaring back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are <3
> 
> I'm on tumblr! Come visit judearaya.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

“We could,” Bucky says, exhaling the words against Steve’s throat. He bites gently, sucking kisses as he moves. Shivers roll down Steve’s spine. “Not a lot of room though.”

“Mm.” Steve tilts his head, silently demanding more; he's caught between wanting to push Bucky, to test the limits of whatever it is they are doing, and putting the brakes on the whole thing.

“C’mon,” Bucky says. Steve whines when he pulls away, then closes his eyes in mortification. Bucky grabs his hand and pulls him up easily. Steve’s stomach swoops; he wants to ask Bucky for more of that. Steve hates being small but right now, with Bucky’s hands on his hips and eyes bright, just for him, he likes it. Looking up at Bucky. Knowing Bucky could manhandle him any way he wants. “Lemme take you to bed Steve.”

“Okay,” Steve says on an exhale. Bucky turns and leads him by the hand to their tiny room without pausing; impatient and when they get there, he does push Steve down onto the bed and Steve’s sure he’s never been more hard in his life. Bucky doesn’t waste any time either, but crawls over him, tangles his fingers in Steve’s hair and presses their lips and bodies together.

“Steve,” Bucky whispers, low and urgent and a little broken.

“ _Oh_ , oh god Bucky you gotta- I’m—“ Steve barely manages to push Bucky’s hips up, just a little, before he shoots in his pants.

“Don’t you wanna?” Bucky asks. “You can.”

“I...I don’t know what to do. You done this before? With a guy, I mean.”

“No,” Bucky says. He rolls to his side and props his head on his hand. Steve is torn between gratitude because he needs time to calm down and a kind of terror that talking about this will ruin it. That common sense will clear both their heads. Steve touches Bucky’s lips: to ground himself or Bucky, he doesn’t know. But because, he realizes with a pang, he doesn’t want his head cleared – he wants it cluttered, filled up with Bucky. His smell and his delicious lips and wet kisses, his heavy body and his hard prick, which Steve has just gotten to feel a minute ago, pressed against his thigh.

“I’ve thought about it,” Bucky says. His voice is low and confidential, and his teeth graze Steve’s fingertips. “With you.”

“With me?” Steve presses a hand to his chest. Breathlessness is a familiar, often painful or aggravating reality for him. But this kind is intoxicating because it’s for Bucky, as if he’s giving Bucky his very ability to breathe. It’s intimate and inexplicable.

“Yeah,” Bucky says. His brows furrow. “You really don’t see it, do you?” Bucky kisses Steve’s cheek, his eyebrow.

“See what?”

Bucky’s eyes search Steve’s; it’s easy now, with permission, to let himself stare. To get lost in the blue that’s all Bucky. No one in the world has eyes like this, and while Steve has tried to capture them in colors, he’s never been able to. Now he thinks, if he can keep this memory, he might. If he could press this picture like a flower between the pages of a memory book, he would. Because Steve has no idea what is happening right now, but knows it’ll pass. A sunbeam, spilling through the window, there then gone.

“Buck, could you – would you kiss me again?” Steve’s voice shakes, but there’s nothing to be done for that. His whole body is shaking, and when Bucky’s fingers come up to trace his ear and cheekbone, Steve sees that his hand is shaking too. Steve puts his hand on Bucky’s; he knows, now, that they’re in this together. That they both want this, and for the moment, that nothing outside of _this_ , right now, matters.

“Stevie,” Bucky says, and the urgency rich in his voice stops Steve short. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much right? You can stop me whenever you want.”

“I know Bucky,” Steve says. It’s a whisper; words barely formed on the edge of an exhale. “You too.”

“I don’t want to,” Bucky confesses. “There’s nothing I don’t want, with you.”

 _Fuck_. Steve arches into Bucky’s touch. Bucky’s hand is on his stomach, one finger slipping between the buttons of his shirt. Steve has an idea of what two guys can do, together. But he’s never given it much thought. His body is a reckless thing right now, its desires limitless. Bucky pulls his shirt out of his pants and splays his too warm hand on his stomach, cupping his hipbone. Steve can feel its sharp edge against Bucky’s palm. A pang of self-consciousness spears through him – he’s not built like Bucky, with strong muscles. He’s skinny, sharp angles, bones easily read through his pale skin.

“Take off your shirt,” Steve says. Getting lost in Bucky’s body seems the better choice. Until now, Steve never knew he wanted that.

“In a minute,” Bucky says. He’s popping the buttons of Steve’s shirt open. Pushing Steve’s undershirt up as far as he can. Kissing Steve’s stomach and then ribs while Steve gasps helplessly. Bucky darts a glance up at him, all mischief and desire, and then delicately licks Steve’s nipple.

“Oh, _fucking hell_ ,” Steve says.

“Language,” Bucky says, laughing and Steve’s smile back is reflexive. “Can I take this off?” Bucky tugs at Steve’s shirts.

“Only if you do too,” Steve says, pressing the point. He wants Bucky’s skin on his skin, _now_.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think we've gone up to explicit? IDK where's the line between mature and explicit? We'll go with E for now.

Bucky looms over Steve. There’s no other way to put it: he’s bigger, wider, stronger. Overwhelming. Steve is so saturated him him: his smell and touch, and with his mouth on Bucky’s neck, taste. Steve licks the skin of Bucky’s collarbone and is rewarded with a tiny, broken exhale.

“Steve,” Bucky says. His hands are busy mapping Steve’s body; cupping his shoulders and tracing the edges of his scapula, down his spine. To burry his self-consciousness, Steve sets himself to work. Goal: Make Bucky Fall Apart. He moves his kisses down Bucky’s neck, and to his pectorals. He bites to test response. It’s beautiful; Bucky groans and grinds down against him. Their cocks are nowhere near each other, considering their size and the constriction of pants. Steve could care less, because when he dares to bite Bucky’s nipple, Bucky moans and burries his face in Steve’s hair.

“ _Fuck_ , oh Jesus Steve.”

“Language,” Steve says, laughing through his breathlessness. Bucky is alive and so bright and open in his lap, Steve can hardly believe his luck. His desires burning like wildfire through him.

“Ugh, fuck off,” Bucky whispers. “Do that again.”

“God you’re demanding.” Steve’s mouth is still busy, Bucky’s skin hot and salty and intoxicating. Bucky grabs his face and tilts it up for a kiss. He’s so much taller and like this, almost too high, giving Steve a crick in his neck.

“Ow,” Steve says, rolling his head to uncrick it.

“Comere,” Bucky whispers, wrapping his arms around Steve and rolling them so that he’s on top.

“I like that too much, I think.” Steve murmurs it against Bucky’s lips. Sprawled on top of him, Steve is able to slot between Bucky’s legs as he spreads them. Bucky splays his hand, hot and sweat damp, on Steve’s lower back to keep him close. Steve goes back to Bucky’s body, his chest and ribs and neck, biting harder the more responsive Bucky becomes to it. Bucky grinds up against him; he’s shockingly hard, pressed up against Steve’s thigh.

Still, it’s not enough.

“Can we—“ Steve touches the button fly of Bucky’s pants.

“Jesus, yes,” Bucky says with a laugh. He attacks his own fly, and together, in a mess of arms and impatient hands, they push his pants and underwear down. Steve burries his face against Bucky’s stomach to catch his breath. He’s so close, Bucky’s cock right by his mouth. Desire is a furious twist through him, because Bucky is breathless and desperate, hands in Steve’s hair. The idea of breaking him apart is delicious and intoxicating. He wants to put his mouth on him; a thought that might shock him if he were in any state to think clearly.

The thing is, Steve has fantasized about receiving this; a little hopelessly because he’s not the kind of guy a girl would want to do that to. Still; fantasy is free and Steve’s been okay with taking the best he can get.

Now though, Steve could care less about getting; instead, his mouth waters with wanting.

“Buck,” Steve says. Dares to run his fingers up the length of him. He’s gorgeous, long and curved and pinked. “Can I suck it?”

“Oh god, Steve, you can’t fucking say—“ Bucky grabs himself, circles his fingers around the base of his dick. “Fuck, yes. I...I don’t think I’ma last.”

The fact that Steve has that power, that effect, makes Steve throb. Testing, he grips Bucky’s dick and strokes slowly. Licks the head to taste him where he’s dripping; it’s different than his own. Sweeter somehow. Above him, Bucky’s started up a litany of swears under his breath; Steve figure’s he’ll know if he’s doing something wrong when Bucky shuts up. He sucks at the head, stroking still, pulling the loose skin up so he can lick around it, just inside it, before stroking down, testing how much of Bucky he can take.

“Steve, _oh_ , I’ma—“

Steve sucks hard and squeezes and does his best to breathe while Bucky shoots in his mouth; it’s a lot, enough that it dribbles down his chin before his can swallow it all.

“Comere, come here right now,” Bucky’s still gasping and twitching; he hooks his hands under Steve’s armpits and hauls him up. Steve can’t help the shocked sound Bucky pulls from him when he licks his own spunk from Steve’s chin and then kisses him so dirty and rough Steve feels it thrill all the way to his toes.

“Let me,” Bucky fumbles between them at Steve’s pants; Steve knows he’ll never make it long enough to even get there, so he puts his hand over Bucky’s and presses it against his prick, making him rub it through the fabric, both of them squeezing. When he comes it’s bright and hot, sudden like he’s hitting  wall of pleasure, shocking shameless noises out of him. When he’s done, aftershocks coaxed out of him by Bucky’s still moving hand, he realizes he’s been moaning Bucky’s name over and over.

After a bit, Steve moves Bucky’s hand and looks down at him. Bucky’s eyelids are lowered, his eyes shuttered. It’s a sated and easy look. They come down without words, lips close enough that Steve can feel Bucky’s breath as it smooths.

Unfortunately, too, as he comes down, Steve becomes more and more aware of himself and them. He’s shot in his pants; the skin around his mouth is tight from the residue of Bucky’s come. He’s marked the hell out of Bucky’s neck with his teeth. And most of all, under his is his best friend. A man he’s never thought of like this. Because Steve’s never thought of _men_ like this.

But Bucky is long and lean, naked and so lax under him. Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath; as deep as he can; and wonders how he’ll ever put this away. Because Bucky’s lit something Steve didn’t even know he had. Bucky’s brought his whole body awake and Steve doesn’t want to let go of that fire, of Bucky like this.

As long as Steve’s known Bucky, he’s known that Bucky is his in a way no one else could have him. That they’ve known each other better than anyone else alive. And sure, in the future, Bucky’ll marry. And there will be someone else in his life that knows him more.

The jealousy of this has been an echo, a sound in the distance. But now...

“Buck. You really never done that before with a guy?”

“Naw. Course not,” Bucky says.

Steve wonders what that means. Wonders if now that Bucky has, if he’ll find it somewhere – there’s places, Steve knows, where he could. Women have known Bucky like this, sure. But Steve, jealous and petty and aching right now, selfishly wants to keep _this_ just for himself.

“Never wanted anyone but you, like this,” Bucky says. Does he know now what he’s been thinking, or is this mutual assurance? Steve rolls to the side, thrills when Bucky does too, keeping an arm over Steve’s waist. He doesn’t want to pull away, and neither does Bucky apparently.

“But you’ve wanted me?”

Bucky’s voice is low; not confession colored, but unsure. “Yeah. For a long time.”

Steve lets that sit for a minute. Bucky’s fingers trace his ribs; it both tickles and sends shivers through Steve.

“Why...why now, then?”

“You were so beautiful, in the sunlight Steve,” Bucky whispers. “I had to.”

Steve closes his eyes; perhaps it’s sacrilege to think it, but right now, how his cup runs over.

“Does that – disgust....you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“I’m here, ain’t I?” Steve frowns. “I kissed you back Buck.”

“I dunno. Maybe now you’ll wanna take it all back.” Bucky retracts his hand, covers his face with his arm as he rolls onto his back.

“Hey,” Steve comes up onto his elbow. Bucky’s fear reads through the gesture. It’s always been like this though with them: when one is afraid, the other is brave for them both. “You having second thoughts? Because I ain’t.”  

“Steve,” Bucky whispers, still hiding his face. “You don’t...you gotta understand. It’s not just this I’ve been thinking about. It’s...it’s _you_.”

“You mean like...”

Bucky finally looks at him. His eyes are bright, worry tight around them. “Like I love you.”

Steve stops, fingers that had been tracing Bucky’s ear stilling.

“You think that makes me a fairy? Do you think I’m sick or something?”

“No,” Steve hurries to say. “Well I don’t know. About the – I mean you been with girls, lots, right? Is that...were you pretending?”

“No, I like girls plenty.” Bucky says. He worries his lip. “That’s the thing. I never wanted a guy. Other ones, I mean. Just you.”

Steve has to close his eyes then, at the bounty of this.

“Buck, I got to be honest. I never thought of this...being with a man I mean. But. I want—“

“To try it?”

“Not with anyone else.” Steve blurts, fast and too loud. “I mean. You know I, um. Love you too? I guess, I mean.” He clears his throat and looks away. “Does this make it different?” His face is flushed because he’s never said it. It feels strange, like too much, like nakedness and also somehow embarrassing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! At some point I am gonna clean this up I think? I mean, IDK that this is the best representation of my writing skills (therefore, Stucky fandom, I promise I can do better!). That said, I hope you've enjoyed this. I have an crazy long fic coming for the Big Bang in the fall, so I hope you'll come back for that.

Bucky is quiet for a long while. His hand is back on Steve, warm on his skin and intimate. Steve wants to luxuriate in it, this moment; but it’s an awful much, feeling this exposed. He sits up and pulls his shirt on, wincing at the state of his pants.

“I gotta go-“ he gestures toward the hall and then his pants.

“No, please,” Bucky says. Steve has to lean in to hear him. “Unless...you want to be alone. I can go.”

“No, Bucky.” Steve puts a hand on Bucky’s chest. “Stay. I’ll come back.” Bucky’s vulnerability is unnerving; he’s more stripped like this than he is naked. Which Steve can’t help but notice he still is. “I just want to get cleaned up.”

“Let me do it,” Bucky says. He sits up, tries to slip Steve’s unbuttoned shirt back off. Steve tries to twist away; the thought of being naked now, with Bucky blinding beautiful in this bed, makes him faintly nauseated. “I want to see you.”

“Bucky,” Steve says. There’s a hint of a smile around the corners of Bucky’s lips. Exasperation and fondness battle for traction. “I can’t. Not when – well you’re...”

“I’m what?” Bucky frowns.

“You’re you!” Steve gestures. “And I’m—“

“Steve,” Bucky starts. Bucky rarely uses that tone so Steve stills. “First of all, pal, I’ve seen you naked before.”

“So?” Steve says, mulish and annoyed. “That’s different.”

“Yes, it is,” Bucky says. His eyes trace the blush spilling from Steve’s cheeks down his neck to his chest. “Because now I can touch. And I can take time to look. And I’ve wanted it bad Steve. But I knew it would be wrong to do that before. I can now, right? I mean, this isn’t a one-time thing is it?”

Steve chews on his lip. “No.”

“If we’re gonna do this more, you’re gonna have to take ‘em off at some point.” Bucky pulls on Steve’s pant leg. “Steve.” Bucky kisses Steve’s cheek. Puts the palm of his hand on Steve’s stomach. “I been wanting you. Sometimes I look at you and it’s like being blinded, you’re so beautiful. I can’t breath.”

“Shut up,” Steve says, pushing him away. “Nobody’s looking at me like that.”

“ _I_ am.” Bucky insists. “Come here,” he says. Steve watches his hands as they slip his shirt back off. Let’s Bucky coax him back onto the bed. His stomach does something strange, but it’s good. He sucks in a breath when Bucky’s fingers linger on his button fly. Closes his eyes when Bucky kisses him, slow and wet and teasing from the hollow of his throat to the dip of his belly button.

“Your skin is-“

“Pale? Sickly?”

“Lovely,” Bucky says. “I’m no artist like you Steve. I don’t got words for it.” He pops the first button of Steve’s pants open. Steve’s not hard; his heart is beating too hard, anxiety coiled tight throughout him. But when Bucky pops another and licks the skin of his lower belly that’s exposed, arousal begins to thrum through him.

“Buck, I’m a mess,” Steve warns when Bucky gets the final button undone and begins to wiggle his pants down, fly spread open.

“Mhm.” Bucky bites Steve’s hipbone lightly. “I know. It -  _god_  - you get me so hot.”

Steve covers his eyes and lifts his ass so Bucky can wiggle his pants off. He uses the edge of the sheet to wipe Steve off perfunctorily. Sucks wet kisses right by his pelvic bone. Steve’s beginning to stiffen; when Bucky’s lips do the same to his shaft, mouth soft and wet, Steve’s moan is broken and breathless. There’s a reverence to Bucky’s touch: it’s filthy and also somehow sweet. Steve dares himself to look down and finds Bucky’s eyes on him.

“ _Oh_ ,” Steve says, surprised. He can’t look away then, not when Bucky licks the head of his cock, little licks that tease more than anything. Under his sure hand, Steve’s dick fills out. “Buck, oh, I... _please_.”

“Please what?” Bucky’s breath is warm; his grip a shade too lose. “Tell me Steve.”

“Really? You gonna make me say it?”

“I wanna give you everything you want Stevie. Any way you want it.”

Steve’s whole body responds to the words, his dick throbs and he exhales through his nose, hard. “Suck me,” his voice is shot, graveled and low. Some part of him is utterly shocked; a corner of his brain that cannot believe this is happening to him. That can’t fathom that he’s just ordered someone – Bucky no less – to suck him off.

But that’s silenced pretty damn fast when Bucky does. He takes Steve into his mouth like he’s done it a million times. Steve puts his fingers in Bucky’s hair and arches off the bed. God, the heat and suction, _fuck_.

“ _Ohmygod_ , Buck.”

Bucky pulls off, “This okay?” Dazed, Steve is surprised, because Bucky isn’t sure. Bucky is _always_ sure. “I ain’t done this before either, you know?”

“Buck, you’re perfect,” Steve says, and means it. Never in his life has Steve felt like this; Bucky’s mouth on him is a pleasure that’s almost painful. Bucky sucks harder then, at the tip; it’s like he’s hungry for it. His free hand moves down from Steve’s cock, fingers lightly tracing Steve’s balls, cupping them.

When one finger slides down, presses just behind Steve’s balls, all of that heat and pleasure peak, blinding and whiplash fast; before Steve even knows it’s gonna happen, he comes into Bucky’s mouth, crying out and arching up.

By the time he’s coming down, still fighting to get air into his lungs, Steve realizes Bucky’s got his face buried against Steve’s thigh, hand down between his legs in the space between his belly and the bed.

“Buck,” Steve says, but it’s all he manages before Bucky bites his thigh, shuddering as he comes. Steve watches, fascinated; Bucky’s back sloping from wide, capable shoulders, to the surprisingly delicate curve of his lower back. His ass – how has Steve never noticed it? It’s lovely, round and strong, clenching as he works through his orgasm. Steve can imagine what it’ll feel like, cupped in his hands. How it would be to fill his palms with them and to squeeze.

“Sorry,” Bucky says. He kisses the spot where he bit Steve. It’ll leave a mark. Steve wants it though.

“Can I draw you?” he blurts out. Bucky looks up.

“Right now?”

“Well, we can get cleaned up first, if you like.”

“You know you draw me all the time. And now, you can draw me naked anytime you want,” Bucky points out. Steve touches the curve of Bucky’s ear and tries to memorize his soft, open smile. He wants to tell Bucky that he loves him again; he’s not sure why. It’s a closeness, perhaps. Something in his chest that makes him want to keep Bucky like this, always.

“I just don’t want to forget,” Steve says. Bucky crawls up the bed and gives him a kiss. “I wanna keep you like this with me. Doesn’t matter how many times we do this now, or how we do it. It’ll never be this exact moment.”

“Fuck, Stevie.” Bucky’s forehead against Steve’s is sheened with sweat – Steve supposes they’ve both been sweating. “Yeah. Do it. I wanna keep it too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr (judearaya) and friend me! I love friends! Also, comments and kudos make rainbows appear :D Feel free to share this if you feel moved to do so!

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr if you feel the urge: http://judearaya.tumblr.com/


End file.
